Chapter 23

After Sirius took the time to read the nine-day-old Daily Prophet the next morning, things were becoming a little clearer in his muddled mind.

He was quite displeased to recollect that he'd poured his heart out to Snape, of all people, but the paper somewhat allayed his displeasure at this realization. After all, Snape was the Bonder. Whatever that was. So Sirius had obviously been compelled by forces beyond his control to confide in his worst enemy.

Through no fault of his own, whatsoever.

Sirius only had one thing to do before he went to see Hermione. He'd been putting this off for far too long, and he wanted to do it for himself, but also to show Hermione that he could be responsible.

Plus, he really wanted to see how much of Remus little Teddy Lupin had in him. Sirius hoped it was a lot, because he missed his old friend more than he could put into words.

After showering and shaving what had turned into quite the beard, Sirius sent an owl to Andromeda, asking if he could come over. He knew she wouldn't really be surprised by his communiqué; she would have read the papers and heard the rumours already. He'd always felt an affinity with her...they were both Black sheep after all. But he didn't know her as well as he suspected he should. After he'd left home, he never really spoke to or saw any of his relatives, and by the time Andromeda had married Ted and thereby severed all bonds to her heritage, Sirius had already been completely disowned and forgotten by his barmy family.

Sirius enlisted the help of Kreacher in cleaning up his home. He'd done nothing to take care of it himself this past week, preferring to wallow in his own filth and order take-away, the leftovers of which were happily growing friends in his kitchen. Kreacher appeared somewhat discontent, to put it lightly, at being at the beck and call of the notorious Gryffindor Black, but Sirius happily ignored him in favour of thinking of all the debauched things he would do to his little bondmate once he got her in his arms again.

After a few hours of cleaning and listening to Kreacher plot his demise, Sirius finally heard the owl return with an answer from his cousin.

It simply read, It's about time. Beneath that delightful message were Apparition coordinates.

Sirius took that to mean he was welcome to come over whenever he was available, and since he was thus at that very moment, he decided now was the very best time to go meet Teddy. And deal with his pissed-off relative.

"Hello?" Sirius called. The front door had been open, but no one came when he'd knocked.

"In here, Sirius," an imperial voice called, somehow dignified despite its volume.

Following it, he came into a formal sitting room. His cousin, dressed in dark purple robes, sat a little stiffly in a chintz chair. A formal tea service sat on an antique table.

"Cousin," Andromeda greeted him stiffly. Sirius was beginning to wonder if his cousin was anything like him after all.

He walked over to her, ready to give her a hug, but she extended her hand and he took that instead.

"How are you?" he asked warmly before sitting on the sofa by the tea. He gestured toward it, and she nodded, indicating he should pour some for both.

"I'm quite well, thank you. And yourself?"

"I'm fine," Sirius said, adding copious amounts of sugar to his tea and inwardly grinning at the slight displeasure on Andromeda's face. Oh, how he did love to torment his relatives, any way he could.

"Where is Teddy? I really want to meet him," Sirius added, looking around the formal room and wondering if Teddy was being raised in the same strict and proper manner in which he, himself, had been raised and found intolerable.

"He is in his room. I thought it would be best to bring him in after we've had a chance to speak."

Sirius nodded. A part of him felt like he didn't deserve to meet Teddy, like he would be a bad influence on the child. A larger part of him was scared to meet him. Teddy was like Harry...both orphaned, both children of Marauders. And Harry had turned out fine with much more obstacles in his way. Teddy would be a fine wizard. But did Sirius deserve a place in his life?

"Sirius, I'm sure you can imagine how strange it was to hear about your return from a notably unreliable news source. I would have been much more appreciative to have been informed in person."

That was probably the closest thing to, "Welcome back," he was going to get, so Sirius took it. "I am sorry I didn't come see you and Teddy first. It has all happened so fast, and one day Harry and I just got the idea to... go public, as it were. Probably not the best idea, in hindsight, but that's how it happened. I'm sorry."

Andromeda nodded solemnly. "I thought it might have gone like that. You always did treat Harry just like one of your friends. I shouldn't have expected you to change."

"Well, I was basically put on hold for five years. Not exactly an environment conducive to growing up," he joked, feeling a little uncomfortable under her scrutiny. She was family, and he didn't have much of that left, but he felt he did okay by Harry. They had fun together.

"Indeed, not," she agreed, eyeing him seriously. "As you know, Harry is Teddy's godfather."

Sirius smiled proudly.

"And he takes his role very seriously. He comes by here nearly every day, you know. Sometimes to tuck Teddy in, and sometimes to make him breakfast. Other days, he spends the entire day here with the child. Ginny, too, but mostly Harry. He has proved himself very reliable and worthy of the role. Remus and my daughter made an excellent in choosing him to be a father-figure for their son."

Sirius was listening carefully. Blacks rarely said anything without the intention of saying something else at the same time. Himself excluded, of course; but then, he'd always been told he quite enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

"That said," she continued. "I think Harry could benefit from the same type of guidance he strives to provide for Teddy. As his godfather, it appears that role has, once again, fallen upon you. I do not expect you to take up the mantle, but I do think you should know that... well, Harry has a lot of friends, Sirius. But he's never had a father."

Sirius was running to keep up. "You think Harry wants me to be all paternal and role model-y for him? I don't think so. He's never said anything..."

"Ah," she interrupted. "And when has Harry ever let on that he needed anything? No, Sirius, this was for you to infer. I only want you to think about it. He loves you so much...anyone can see that. Even before the papers revealed your return, I knew something important had happened in Harry's life. He was more excited, happier, and he came to see Teddy even more than usual. It is obvious that he is giving Teddy the type of relationship that he, himself, desires."

Sirius was quiet for a long time. He knew he'd never been the typical godfather, that he acted more friend than parent. But Harry was so smart; he'd grown up so fast... Sirius wanted to be useful and needed in the boy's life. But maybe he hadn't quite gone about that the right way. The way James had wanted. The way Harry needed.

Andromeda seemed to notice his thought process, for she said, "I know you did the best you knew how. Merlin knows you didn't have the best example of a father-figure, either. But you have the chance to change all that for Harry." She took a sip of her tea and finally smiled, a true smile that reached her eyes and made her seem like a different person. "Would you like to meet Teddy now?"

Hermione was in the middle of reading one of Josef Alensky's journals when she inexplicably smiled. It was strange, having your facial muscles move and shift as though not your own. She shook the silly expression off her face and went back to reading.

The journals hadn't given her any new information. There was a small section where Josef briefly spoke of "Jessica's" depression, but it was in vague and ambiguous terms like, "Mother said when that before I was born, she felt not like herself. When asked her meaning, she simply shrugged and touched my hair, saying that it mattered not, now that I was there."

It was sweet, but it didn't help Hermione.

She didn't even know what she was looking for, really. She wanted to know if the bond still existed, if that piece of her soul that she'd so graciously donated had been returned, or if Sirius had it inside him. Or had the Veil taken it? What was the purpose of the Veil, really? Where had Sirius been all those years?

But there was no way Josef's journals would tell her anything like that. Renworth had already told Hermione that there was no substantially helpful information within the pages.

But despite her frustration and aimlessness, Hermione had the strangest feeling of elation. Moving to get more comfortable in her chair, Hermione didn't bother erasing the grin from her face as she read on.

Meeting Teddy had been one of the highlights of Sirius' life. There were so few pure, unspoiled moments for him to remember, and this was one of them. It only compared to seeing Harry for the first time, holding him in his arms the day he'd been born.

Teddy looked exactly like Remus.

Sirius had expected it to be painful, seeing this child without parents, a living dedication of Remus' legacy. But it just felt slightly bittersweet, and only because Sirius wished Remus was showing off his son's amazing Metamorphmagus abilities instead of Andromeda.

When his cousin had gone to bring Teddy out, it was as though she'd returned a different person. She was soft and patient and kind, holding Teddy's hands as he walked bravely to meet Sirius. His hair was a deep purple, and Sirius saw that the little dragon plushie he was holding was the same colour.

But his eyes... his eyes were the same light gold as Remus' had been, and they were beautiful. Teddy was very reserved, shy, but his eyes were wise. It was almost enough to make him forget that Teddy was just a child and not Remus himself, and Sirius began to understand what Andromeda meant when she'd said Sirius acted like Harry was James.

But Harry wasn't James. And Teddy wasn't Remus. And Sirius was alone.

But he had Hermione. And he did still have her. Maybe he was a little worried about his reception, but he loved her, and maybe she loved him. And it was about time he grew up and started acting like the man he saw in the mirror instead of the man he saw in his head. He wasn't twenty years old anymore, and Hermione deserved a man who knew his age and acted it.

So he'd lost five years. It didn't matter. Before that, he'd lost twelve and still managed to come out sane. Or at least a passable facsimile of sane.

Sirius didn't cry when Teddy climbed into his lap, the child's hair shifting to long, black and wavy, and his eyes changing to a slate grey. But it was a close call.

Sirius sent an owl to Hermione at Harry's. It only asked if he could see her. He would save everything else for when he could hold her and show her his sincerity. He felt as though, more than his words had hurt her, his betrayal of her feelings had been the true crime.

And if it had taken ten days to learn that lesson, so be it. At least he'd learned it, and maybe the next time he fucked up (for surely he would), it would take less and less time until he stopped acting like a prat altogether. But no matter how he messed up in the future, he would never diminish Hermione's sacrifice to him again.

He must have nodded off, for he startled awake when he heard an owl tapping incessantly at the window. He let the little thing in, taking the missive and watching the owl fly off quickly. It obviously had not been told to expect a reply.

Sirius,

You can come by Harry's anytime. I'll be here.

He traced his fingers over his name, liking the way she'd made the S all curvy and interlocking with the other letters. She had put thought into writing his name. That meant something, didn't it?

Sirius had never loved someone without knowing for certain that they loved him back.

He walked quickly to the fireplace, knowing that he wouldn't be able to delay even a moment before seeing her again. And if that made him desperate, then at least he was honest.

Calling out, "Godric's Hollow!" Sirius whisked away in a swirl of green flames.

Hermione heard the Floo activate and cautiously moved toward it. She was excited and nervous to see Sirius again, as though they'd been parted for longer than a week and a half.

She was more than ready to forgive him. She just hoped he was ready to earn it.

But when he came out of the fire, looking worried and anxious, with a smudge of soot on his cheekbone, Hermione was inexorably drawn to him, and every memory of anguish and frustration dissipated into the air between him.

When his eyes finally met hers, it was as though an invisible string was drawn taut between them, so she stepped closer to relieve the tension. His eyes grew wide, and his lips parted slightly as though air wasn't coming as freely as it should have been.

She knew the feeling.

And then her hands were on him, relishing his solidity. She was angry, she remembered. She was hurt. But he was here, and he was real.

Their lips met in an impatient crash, Sirius grabbing her and pulling her tightly against him. Their bodies met from knees to lips, and his hands gripped her so tightly that she knew he was feeling the same half-crazed desire she was.

He pulled her robe away, and she quickly disposed of his as well.

"Harry?" he murmured against her skin, licking and then biting the exposed flesh.

"Gone," she whispered, pressing her hips against his in the hopes that somehow they could be making love already.

"Ginny?" Nibbles along her collar bone and impatient tug of her hair.

"Gone," she repeated, letting her head fall back to reveal more of her neck, as he obviously desired.

"Bedroom?"

Hermione hoped that was his final question, because his talking took away from his lips travelling over her skin, burning marks into her heart. Instead of answering, she tore herself away to lead him up the stairs, into the little guest room where she'd been staying.

"Hermione," he moaned, pulling her back into his arms and undressing her in an impassioned frenzy. "I'm sorry."

"Later," she gasped, her hands working until he was as bare as she.

He nodded gratefully and pushed her onto the bed, following her in a leonine stalk. She immediately parted her legs for him, allowing him to crawl between them. His kisses on her throat and chest scorched her, especially the gentle ones he placed on the scars over her heart.

His hands were everywhere and nowhere long enough. When his fingers finally slipped inside her, she cried out, hands clenching his upper arms. Her body moved eagerly, fucking herself on his fingers, even though they were not nearly enough.

She quickly moved to take hold of his straining erection, tracing it first as if to remind herself what it was like to touch. His moan showed her that her memory was sound. She gripped him tightly, moving her hand quickly in the hope that he'd want to be inside her soon.

His lips were fierce on hers, his fingers playing her like his favourite game. She whimpered into his mouth, trying to show him with her tongue and teeth and lips just how much she needed him. Thankfully, he seemed to speak her language, because he settled in the cradle of her hips, and she could feel the rounded head of him press against her slickness.

"Please," she begged, uncaring about past wrongs or future worries. Nothing was more important, nothing was more perfect than him inside her.

"Yes," he answered, sinking deep into her with one vital thrust. They both gasped, staring into the other's eyes. This had been missing, she realized. This was needed... not just nice, not just good, but wholly necessary.

Sirius began to move, his body rocking into her with the power of a thousand memories between them. His lips never left hers as he pumped harder and harder into her, neither asking for quarter, nor giving it.

Hermione felt her orgasm form as though outside herself, the magic building and gathering until reaching an impossible peak and exploding with a desperate cry. She barely acknowledged that Sirius groaned at the same time, thrusting impossibly deeper and making her feel slick and sated.

He panted softly against her ear, his body pressing down on her with a weight that was comforting and sure. She felt her heart do a funny little skip before slowing down slightly. She realized with dazed comprehension that their hearts were beating in tandem, the way they had so long ago when she'd first brought him back, before he'd regained consciousness. That was important, she told herself.

Remember that.

But Sirius was moving his weight to side, pulling her against his sweat-slicked body, seemingly loath to let her go. The kisses he placed on her lips and neck now were reassuring, apologetic, and Hermione knew she should be thinking about what exactly had happened between them, or about the Veil, or the bond, or even Sirius' arsehole attitude, but instead... instead, all she could think about was the way his hand was skimming over her skin, not putting any pressure on her at all, just touching, making sure she was there, that she was okay, that she was happy.

And she was. The rest would come in time.